


Reflections

by Bazylia_de_Grean



Series: Adra Bán [6]
Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Eydis Webb (mentioned), F/M, Gen, Thaos (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-01 23:04:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16774711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bazylia_de_Grean/pseuds/Bazylia_de_Grean
Summary: She tries to guess what Lady Webb’s gift can be, but she does not open it until she is in her chambers in Caed Nua, alone. Inside, there is a small, very old – probably even ancient – adra mirror. It must have belonged to a cipher, ages, perhaps even millennia ago.It had also belonged to Lady Webb. And there is – was – only one person on Eora who could have found an artifact like this and carried it out of Engwithan ruins safely.





	Reflections

**Author's Note:**

> (Written for a prompt from the 'sensory prompts' set on tumblr, thrown at me by Miya: Reflections in glass.)

The Hadret House is almost renovated by now, most traces of fire and blood scrubbed away. There is something, though, that the remaining Dunryd Row agents will never be able to get rid of – memories. Traces of the souls of their slain friends. And, hovering over the whole building like a protective cloak, faint soul-energy signatures of Lady Webb herself.

Everywhere but in her room. When Islwyn leads Eidis inside, his long, furry ears twitching, she can immediately tell the difference. Lady Webb’s presence is so strong here it is almost palpable; calm, confident – to the last, even in death. And what shocks Eidis most of all – and what she missed earlier, too preoccupied with more important things – is that peculiar sensation, like stepping into slightly cold, clear water – the imprint of a peaceful death. Almost like in her own memories.

Islwyn opens one of the many drawers in the desk and takes out a small parcel, wrapped in grey paper. There are two words written across it: _The Watcher_. The letters are leaning to the side slightly, all lines sharp and decisive, written by a person who did not want to waste even a single gesture. Who had never wasted a single word, Eidis realizes.

“She left that for you,” the orlan speaks, handing the package over.

Understanding dawns on her. “She knew. Knew she would…”

Islwyn snorts quietly. “That goes without saying.” He quickly grows serious. “It had always been the question of when, not if. Especially in the last few years.” He shrugs, as if it was sometimes completely natural. “A cipher, no matter how powerful, can only spread their mind’s strength to some extent. Beyond that, you go mad or you die. Simple as that.” He shakes his head suddenly. “Apologies, Lady Eidis. I forget you are not as familiar with theory as our agents.”

“It’s all right.” Eidis smiles wanly in reply; she cannot muster anything more. Not in the place, not after what she has seen here. Not when it brings those particular memories.

“I think it may be best if you open it when you’re alone,” the orlan advises kindly. “Cipher things,” he adds, with a wry smile. “But it can get more complicated for a Watcher.”

She nods. “Thank you, Islwyn.”

The orlan, known as Islwyn in Defiance Bay and as Islwn of the Guided Compass in Eir Glanfath, Lady Webb’s apprentice and the new leader of the Dunryd Row, offers a formal, almost courtly bow.

“It is I who should be thanking you for the rest of my life, Eidis of Caed Nua.” Another crooked smile. “We Glanfathans are good at remembering debts.” His eyes darken. “Shall I find Thaos’ soul Awakened again in this new life, I will make sure he pays all of his.”

Eidis only nods instead of a farewell, but no one who knows her could be surprised by her silence.

* * *

She tries to guess what Lady Webb’s gift can be, and establishes that the contents of the parcel are made of adra. But she does not open it until she is in her chambers in Caed Nua, alone.

Slowly, cautiously, she unwraps the paper. Inside, there is a small, very old – probably even ancient – adra mirror. An inscription runs along the copper frame, in faded Engwithan runes. _I see all for souls are glass, I keep all those who will pass_. It must have belonged to a cipher, ages, perhaps even millennia ago.

It had also belonged to Lady Webb. And there is – was – only one person on Eora who could have found an artifact like this and carried it out of Engwithan ruins safely.

Eidis brushes her fingertips along the inscription. Nothing. Hesitantly, she presses her palm flat against the adra surface. Nothing. She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and imagines her hand sinking into adra like into water.

There is cold and warmth and _waves_ , resonating within her mind. Eidis open her eyes. The mirror is shimmering like a lake, and it seems there are waves rippling across adra. And then suddenly it all calms down and Eidis can see a face.

Wrinkled skin, white wisps of hair; Lady Webb. There are fleeting sensations; fragile fingers touching the mirror; satisfaction with a life work well done.

Another shimmer. Lady Webb’s face, but younger, hair grey, not white. Echoes of determination and regret.

Another. Dark waves of hair, gleaming eyes. Hesitation and, deeper, excitement at having found something important; a clue, probably.

More waves. Grim countenance of a greying man with the most honest eyes Eidis has ever seen. A dark-haired woman looking over his shoulder; there is warmth to her gaze.

A young woman, dark hair tangled; pupils still wide, heart still beating fast. A victorious smile on her face.

Darkness; night falling over the lake. And then the waters part; not an accidental imprint; no, this was intentional.

Pale face framed by dark hair and a beard. Dark deep eyes, like adra. A smile, also intentional… but there is some measure of honesty to it.

Eidis bites her lip to stifle a gasp. He looks merely a few years older than her. Younger than in her memories. He looks…

There is warmth against her palm, like a ghost of a touch. Eidis withdraws her hand abruptly, and the mirror falls down onto the floor. It shatters with a clear, high sound, unlike any glass.

It is for the best, Eidis tells herself sternly, looking at the adra shards. Those memories were not hers, anyway.

At night, in dreams, he smiles like that at her, too. But in the morning, she is not certain if those were memories or only wishes projected onto the canvas of her thoughts.


End file.
